ers. So you see, if he is truly sorry for his fault, he
knows the way to atone for it."

Horace's conscience told him, by a twinge, that it would be no more than
just for him to pay what he could for mending the watch.

"Have you nothing to say to me, my child?"

For, instead of speaking, the boy was working his features into as many
shapes as if they had been made of gutta percha. This was a bad habit of
his, though, when he was doing it, he had no idea of "making up faces."

His father told him he would let him have the whole day to decide
whether he ought to give up any of his money. A tear trembled in each of
Horace's eyes, but, before they could fall, he caught them on his thumb
and forefinger.

"Now," continued Mr. Clifford, "I have something to tell you. I decided
last night to enter the army."

"O, pa," cried Horace, springing up, eagerly; "mayn't I go, too?"

"You, my little son?"

"Yes, pa," replied Horace, clinging to his father's knee. "Boys go to
wait on the generals and things! I can wait on you. I can comb your
hair, and bring your slippers. If I could be a waiter, I'd go a
flyin'."

"Poor child," laughed Mr. Clifford, stroking Horace's head, "you're such
a very little boy, only eight years old!"

"I'm going on nine. I'll be nine next New Year's Gift-day," stammered
Horace, the bright flush dying out of his cheeks. "O, pa, I don't want
you to go, if I can't go too!"

Mr. Clifford's lips trembled. He took the little boy on his knee, and
told him how the country was in danger, and needed all its brave men.

"I should feel a great deal easier about leaving my dear little family,"
said he, "if Horace never disobeyed his mother; if he did not so often
fall into mischief; if he was always sure to _remember_."

The boy's neck was twisted around till his father could only see the
back of his head.

"Look here, pa," said he, at last, throwing out the words one at a time,
as if every one weighed a whole pound; "I'll give ma that money; I'll do
it to-day."

"That's right, my boy! that's honest! You have given me pleasure.
Remember, when you injure the property of another, you should always
make amends for it as well as you can. If you do not, you're unjust and
dishonest."

I will not repeat all that Mr. Clifford said to his little son. Horace
thought then he should never forget his father's good advice, nor his
own promises. We shall see whether he did or not.

He was a restless, often a very n